Chapter 77 Fleetfoot Rewrite

Didn't get this done last night because of how long it is. One 2200 word chapter is now 3 chapters at 5700 words. As I mentioned, this one changes... well, pretty much the entire thing. I shall now break down why.

-At the time, I kept on raising the stakes for no damn reason. While Fleetfoot was in my plans for a while, their introduction was really at odds with the plans I had for the character. A few people mentioned it was very lazy of me to introduce a super powerful character that the cast had never even heard of before, which I hadn't considered because as I said at the time I was focused on raising the stakes for no damn reason. Now, while Fleetfoot is still a real threat, the standoff is more balanced.

If you want to know these indepth plans and why Fleetfoot is drastically different, read here -> SPOILERS FOR FLEETFOOT 

-No more 2 month time limit. People rightly pointed out how this lowered the tension, even though my intent with it was to have more freedom to do slice of life stuff. It made the villains seem arrogant and stupid, criticisms I grew to agree with. I'll be editing other chapters to eradicate the mentions to it.

-Originally, GM was entirely helpless. Now, due to Fleetfoot's personality being better defined, he has a unique chance to use his intelligence to fight back.

-More romance for Gwin at the start

Read old version here for contrast.

---

Gwin takes a deep breath to prime her ultimate weapon before laying it out for me. “Alrigh’, Laddie...” She starts, “Listen nice n’ close now, kay? Yer gonna be jus’ fine, trust me. Ah would’n ever show no interest fer some prissy sunnava bitch, no sir. Yer tough, almost like one of us. On toppa that, ya been thru’ a lotta shite in yer day. By th’ sound o’ it, yer gonna hafta wade thru’ s’more... but ye still got yer shite shovel, don’ ya?” To top off these kind yet oddly chosen words, Gwin clasps her warm, thick hands tight atop the arms I have wrapped around her.

I mull on her advice before chucking against my will. “Are you saying that that sort of thing is attractive to you, Gwin?”

She blushes and grunts as she realizes how odd her statement sounded. “Some girls like th’ smell’a shite on a man... metaphorically speakin’. All I’m sayin’ is yer already knee-deep, what’s a little more?”

“You honestly might be right,” I respond, nuzzling even closer to Gwin’s body. The contact draws out an unexpected but welcome moan from the lass. I’m not trying to say that Gwin suddenly made everything make sense, but she did just reassure a lot of my thoughts.

Sam entered my life one day and taught me how to shrug off my baggage. She reinvigorated my passion and inspired me to make it my goal to elevate this Guild well beyond its former glory until it becomes the greatest Guild in all the Realms. Once the Demon Lord becomes a more significant threat, it’s only a matter of time before the Adventurer’s Guilds are called upon to fight him and his forces. No doubt the strongest Guild would be the one to lead the pack, right? If I have my way, that’ll be us.

All in all, nothing has changed beyond gaining divine confirmation that I was born to be a Guild Master. There’s nowhere to go but up.

“Thank you, Gwin. I think I desperately needed to hear that... I’m starting to feel a bit better now.” I slip off the sleep mask to show my appreciation by looking at my companion in earnest. While Gwin doesn’t have the pull of destiny accompanied by the girls hand picked by Luxy, that doesn’t mean I feel any less attracted to her.

The pretty Dwarf turns around and smiles broadly, her bright eyes still shining and drawing my attention. “Aye. Things with mah family are bit rough righ’ now by th’ by. They don’ like me disobeyin’ orders and associatin’ with ya.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. I’d like a chance to clear the air with them and resume business negotiations, but I don’t feel that’s going to fly with your clan.” Not while I’m having an ongoing feud with the city’s greatest crimelord, at least...

Gwin rolls her eyes as her frustrations grow. “Righ’. Eventually, we’re gonna need ta deal with that, Lad... but if ya ever need mah help, all ya gotta do is lemme know and ah’ll come runnin’ on these stumpy arse legs ‘o mine with mah shovel. Ah’ll show ya how a real Dwarf shovels shite.” A hearty laugh bursts from her lips as she flexes her strong, alluring bicep at me.

“Is that so? Hmm... you know, I can think of a lot of things around here that could do with a little fixing up...” I sit up and smirk suggestively at the sexy short-stack. Gwin blushes at my blatant staring but summons enough bravery up from the depths of her heart to lean in.

“Mn... Looks ta me ya got a hole ‘tween yer lips that needs patchin’...” Gwin whispers, her tomboyish voice growing lower and huskier as she drenches it in sultriness.

We hardly have long to wait until the magnetism stirring between us does its job by forcibly locking our lips together in a kiss tasting oddly of iron, fire, and sweet passion. Gwin’s lustrous, jewel-like eyes flutter open and shut as the kiss speeds her thunderous heartbeat. I grab her stout shoulders to further push the Dwarf against me, our tongues caressing and our hands following soon after.

Slipping into her tank top from behind, I reach for her bra strap and set forth to free Gwin of her restraints, only for the door to open abruptly. Perhaps embarrassed that it escalated so fast, we pull apart from each other as Sam, Zutiria, Meri and Nikita rush forward, spilling into the room. My three adventurers all but jump into bed, concerned expressions lining their faces.

“Boss, the heck was up with that note? You never take time off!” Sam shouts and leans over to sit in front of me. I notice Her Highness excludes the several days of time off I took when we first met so that the two of us could irresponsibly fuck to our heart’s content. “Did everything go ok with the Goddess?” She asks.

Zutiria takes one look at me and another at Gwin before drawing her own conclusions. ‘Sir seems more than alright to me, which is good because I wasn’t quite done with my nap.’ The cheeky Mage yawns and stretches herself out like a cat.

Meri- dear, sweet, innocent Meri- blushes and bites her lower lip as she approaches. She says in a sheepish tone, “Master... I know there’s a lot of stuff going on that I don’t understand yet, b-but... I... I’m your shield, understood?” Summoning determination from within, the timid Shield Maiden pumps her fist up.

“I will protect you from any and all pain, e-even if it’s something as simple as cuddling with you when you feel upset! Use me as you see fit, please! Anything you want, all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll do it, I... eh... wait...” Her eyes open wide once she considers the lewd second meaning she didn’t intend her words to have. Tiny nervous tears drip out of the corner of her eyes as her flushed face grows even redder. It must have sounded much more romantic in her head.

“Fucking Zeus almighty, I knew this would happen...” Nikita sighs as she sits down on the edge of the bed, cradling her forehead in her hand. The Grekkan feels guilty for giving me the ambrosia in the first place, no doubt. “This is why you don’t meet your Gods, kids. It’s just not ever worth it... I hope it wasn’t TOO bad... was it, Chief?”

I shake my head, “No, I think it went about as well as it could have. It didn’t leave me feeling the greatest, but Gwin helped to cheer me up.”

“I bet she did,” Sam smirks at the Dwarf while making a lewd gesture with her hands meant to crudely imitate intercourse. “I heard somewhere that Dwarven pussy is tight as hell, Daddy. Any truth to that?”

Meri looks shocked as she imagines the thought of me conquering the stout, nonhuman redhead. Predictably, the more she thinks about it, this surprise also leads to a glimmer of excitement sparkling in her confused, crimson eyes.

“We didn’ fuck, ya blonde dumbarse. Was jus’ a wee bit o’ cuddlin’...” Gwin angrily tries to bop the giggling, childish Princess on her head, but Sam is too nimble, and she dodges the Dwarf’s fist with ease.

Zutiria opens her mouth to make a sarcastic horrified expression, though her expressionless eyes sell the pantomime suit and make her look more comical than intended. ‘No sex? This is unprecedented. Oh, dear. Things are more serious than I thought. I had best scoot closer so that I can help you through these trying times, Sir.’ The cute Mage makes good on her word, scooting into her favorite seat in all the Realms- my lap.

“Do you want me to go and grab Opal? I’m sure she can take an emergency day off to come and help you out.” Nikita stands up on the bed to head off, and... ah. She’s still wearing that breezy white tunic from this morning... and given how tall the Grekkan is, everyone below her hip level is suddenly flashed a clear view of Nikita’s naked, tastefully trimmed womanhood.

Meri just about faints from blushing, Zutiria casually adjusts her glasses, and Gwin just raises an eyebrow at the dense mercenary. Even Sam finds herself at a loss for words, unable to make a lewd comment about her fearsome combat instructor despite the apparent interest.

As for myself, I look away from the bronzed slit after lingering longer than I’m comfortable admitting. Nikita either doesn’t notice everyone staring at her or is entirely comfortable showing off like this.

“Y-Yes,” I cough into my right hand. “That would be for the best. I don’t need to be coddled by any means, but I want to tell everyone about the things I learned today. I’d also like to discuss some of my plans for the future.”

“Alright. I’ll be back a bit with a pair of titanic bosoms that rival Aphrodite herself!” Nikita laughs before dramatically jumping straight off of the bed and crashing through the wooden floor of my bedroom. She lands below in my office, just barely missing the wooden desk.

All of us remaining on the bed are stunned at the devastation wrought by Nikita misjudging the sheer strength of her legs. Gwin is less stunned and more pissed, though...

I crawl to the end of the bed to look down at Nikita. Dust settles around her feet as the Grekkan looks up at us in shame. “Uh... I’ll be back a bit later than I thought, Chief. I’m just... gonna go and kill some of those Pinemen things for you.” The Grekkan awkwardly waves goodbye before walking out of my office before leaving through the door to the backyard.

Gwin grunts and flops down onto the bed, angrily pounding the mattress with her stumpy legs. Sam grins maliciously as she takes this chance to grope the Dwarf’s large breast like the absolute pervert that she is, but Gwin fires back. Her Highness, sadly, did not prove fast enough to escape Gwin’s mighty fist this time around, and it pops her square in the face. At least Gwin is a bit happier if nothing else.

---Chapter Break---

I spent a little time chatting with Sam, Gwin, Zutiria, and Meri after the Princess got over whining about her just desserts. Once they’ve made sure that I’m not lying and that I really do feel better, Gwin brings up a plan that the girls had made without my knowledge.

“If yer good for it, Lad, do ya mind if we leave ya with Zu fer a while? Ah went an’ promised I’d take the stutterin’ shield an th’ royal disappointment somewhere fer a few hours.” The Dwarf asks, revealing that she knows Sam’s true identity now, too.

I can’t say I’m even surprised anymore. Perhaps we should just get Sam a nice little nameplate and save ourselves the time it takes her to accidentally let slip to every new person we meet that she’s the Crown Princess of Karnalle.

“I’ll show you a royal disappointment, short stuff!” Sam laughs and cracks her knuckles.

“Already lookin’ at one,” Gwin returns the Princess’s playful banter.

“S-S-Stuttering s-s-shield...?” Meri stutters, shrinking back from shyness. I give her a reassuring pat on the head which improves her mood enough to summon a tiny smile.

‘Yes, by all means, go ahead and leave us to our devices,’ Zutiria teases while sitting back on my lap and nuzzling to my chest like a spoiled cat. ‘I shall take care of Sir during his fragile and emotionally vulnerable state. It’s only fair, considering he does the same thing for me each and every night.’

“You heard the little lady,” I stroke Zutiria’s straight, lavender locks and smile.

“Zuzu, we’ve talked about this shit!” Sam puffs out her cheeks and grumbles. “Not fair!” In response, Zutiria merely shrugs her shoulders to show how little she cares about playing fair.

Meri looks at the Mage cuddling up to me and clutches her heart. “I wish I could be that close to you...” She mutters, perhaps not meaning to say it out loud.

“Meri...” I give her a tender look that surprises the anxious bundle of adorableness, only for Gwin to roll her eyes.

“Righ’, we get it. Everyone fuckin’ loves ya ta bits. Let’s get a move on, bitches!” She says.

“Y-Yes, I’m sorry!” Meri jerks up like she did something wrong and is eager to apologize for it.

“You’re just jealous that we got interrupted,” I tease the Dwarf, who crosses her arms and makes a series of grumpy Dwarf noises as she leaps off of the bed and heads to the door.

Gwin’s patience runs thin. She grabs her gloves and toolbelt off the desk, re-equipping them while saying, “Yeah, well, ah fucked yer mum. If we’re goin’ then let’s go.”

Sam tells the Dwarf to wait a moment before turning her attention back to me. “Boss, do you mind if I take 5,000G out of my account? I don’t wanna spoil the surprise, but it’s for the Guild. Kinda. I mean, it’s actually for me, but also in a way that’s still for the Guild, ya know?”

“You don’t need to tell me what it is. I trust you.” It is her money, after all. Even if she wants me to use it to improve the Guild, she’s entitled to use it whenever she wants. That’s not even bringing up how indebted I am to Sam and how I would give her the moon if she asked for it.

“Heck yes!” Sam pumps her fist in the air. Then, to show her appreciation, the Princess leans in and gives me a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. I give her the combination to the Guild’s safe, so she can go and open it for herself.

“See you all tonight, then?” I ask as Sam and Meri shuffle past the large hole in the bedroom floor to follow Gwin, who is impatiently tapping her boot against the floor.

All three girls give me confirmation and head off. Sam and Gwin use Nikita’s newly created shortcut, saving themselves some time as they land in my office below. Meri nervously leaves the room properly and hurries down the stairs to follow after her ruder friends.

It’s just my Mage and me now, a fact which brings great pleasure to Zutiria. Without saying a word, she stands and sits behind me. Zutiria wraps her arms around my neck to pull me down onto her lap, and with a gentle smile, she begins stroking my hair. ‘Rough day?’ She asks. ‘It’s not like you to drink so early. I can smell it on your breath, Sir.’

I laugh and shake my head. “No, it’s not that. The Goddess offered me a few drinks...”

‘Guess she can’t be all bad, then. I sincerely doubt there are many Gods that one could sit down and casually have a beer with.’ Zutiria then stiffens her expression. ‘Forgive me. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about these things just yet.’

“You’re fine, Zutiria. I don’t think even think you’re capable of upsetting me.”

The Mage closes her eyes, only to reopen them after a long, silent pause. She looks off in the middle distance as she says, ‘You don’t know that, Sir...’

Although I want to say something about her negativity, the chance is robbed from me when we hear the sound of shattering glass coming from downstairs, followed by a young, boyish voice cursing, “Shit!”

I jump out of Zutiria’s lap and look at the Mage, who heard the disturbance as well. ‘Get behind me,’ Zutiria holds up her hand and summons her staff from downstairs, which flies through the open door in my office and up the hole in its ceiling.

Together, we cautiously creep down the rickety wooden stairs.

Each painful step exacerbates the tension hanging in the air as we scan the area with our eyes, looking for any signs of the hidden intruder. After reaching the entrance hall, we walk towards a window that was just smashed in. Zutiria’s staff glows with purplish-black energy as she readies her powers to use at her discretion. ‘An awful lot of good a fancy Dwarven door does us when the Guild is riddled with holes, rotted wood, and breakable windows...’ She frowns.

“We don’t have the funds to fully fortify the building, you know that...” She brings a sigh out of me, and I slump my shoulders.

“You might want to get on that, Mate. Not that you’ll have a chance once I’m done with you...” An unknown voice calls out to us from across the room. Unlike the childish tone we heard minutes before, the intruder now sounds like they’re magically masking their voice with some sort of threatening echo. Zutiria and both turn to face the voice’s owner but find them nowhere to be seen.

“Show yourself, damn it!” I spit out, almost on instinct.

There’s silence for a moment before a response that neither of us expected. “Eh, sure. Why not? You’re about to die anyway.” The voice is now coming from a table a few feet away. Zutiria and I watch in total bafflement as the intruder gives up their strategic advantage by suddenly appearing after removing a golden magic ring from their gauntlet.

I don’t get a good look at them because a brief look at the intruder causes me to flinch away from the sight thanks to a magical mask sitting on their face. This mask is primarily white, with black, red-outlined slits running up and down the sides of the face. Glowing yellow eyes stare out from behind their mask like fire upon a black sea.

The mask isn’t terrifying in and of itself, which leads me to believe it to be an artifact that causes fear in those who gaze upon it. Looking at it for more than a second causes me to flinch and avert my eyes.

The intruder is a small figure wearing a dark leather jerkin riddled with gratuitous straps, leather-studded gauntlets, pauldrons, as well as a mysterious black hood and cape. Across their hip, they wear a belt laden with many pouches, and below, they wear dark brown leather trousers with yet more leather straps. Their pants end in what looks like leather greaves only without shoes to accommodate their large feet covered in reddish-orange hair. No doubt about it, they’re a Halfling.

As far as gender goes, it could really go either way. Halflings tend to be underdeveloped compared to other races, and this one is smaller than Zutiria.

Zutiria uses this chance to shoot off a Negatiball spell at the intruder. “W-Wait, damn it!” The rogue exclaims, dodging and tumbling off the table in a rather ungraceful manner.

‘Why should I wait when you said you’re going to kill us?’ Zutiria points her staff threateningly at the Halfling.

“Furthermore, why in the name of the Gods would you reveal yourself during an assassination attempt...?” I shake my head in confusion, making sure to keep my eyes trained on their feet while avoiding looking at the mask.

The rogue jumps up and dusts their pants before turning their attention to Zutiria. “Never mind any of that,” They mumble. “Look at you, though... this mask doesn’t scare you, huh?”

Zutiria tightens her fists around her weapon. ‘No. Why should it?’

“Fair enough,” The rogue laughs while shrugging their shoulders and throwing up their hands. “I mean, we both know you’ve seen a lot scarier in your lifetime... right? What with you barfing up nightmares and all that when you were just a little girl.”

--- Chapter Break ---

Zutiria is shaken. Her knees buckle, and she leans over on her staff to prop herself up from falling over. Her breathing speeds up. Her hands tremble. ‘Who... who... are you...?!’ She asks, gritting her chattering teeth.

“Oh, me?” The Halfling hops up onto the table and casually sits down. “I’m no big deal... you know, just a literal God. Either of you ever heard of Fleetfoot before? No? C’mon. Surely you must’ve read a book on Halfling folklore before, right, smartypants?”

Without meaning to, I laugh. A lot. Much more than I should, considering the situation. Even despite her shift in mood, Zutiria turns to give me an odd look. “Wh-what the hell is so funny, huh?!” The enemy stands up, stomping their foot on the table.

Raising an eyebrow at the ‘God’, I say, “You’ll have to forgive me. I just didn’t know I’d be meeting two Gods in a single day.”

After a brief pause, Fleetfoot asks, “The fuck? Are you being sarcastic?”

“That depends. Pray tell, what sort of God needs a magic ring to turn themselves invisible, or a mask to intimidate others?”

“...This one!” The rogue angrily points at themself. “Geez. Do you even get what kinda position you’re in? You realize I could kill you both at any second, right?” Reaching behind their back, Fleetfoot unsheaths what looks like a glowing, luxuriously crafted butterknife and points it towards us. It shimmers and blinks, creating ten magical copies of itself that hover in the air overhead.

I really shouldn’t have laughed at them just because they’re full of shit, but make no mistake- this enemy is no God.

‘They’re right, Sir... I... I don’t think I can... fight... like... t-this...’ The Mage shivers, her face gone pale as chalk and her brow riddled with anxious sweat.

With a sick laugh, the rogue starts twirling the knife around their fingers before almost dropping it. “Shit- er...” Fleetfoot coughs, their attempt at menacing behavior failing entirely. They decide to distract from this blunder by upping the ante. “Anyway... before I kill you, wanna hear about that time your little purple girlfriend there killed her entire village?”

“NO!” Zutiria shouts so hard that it tears her throat. “D-DON’T SAY AN... ANY... TH...” She falls to her knees, coughing and hacking. Her grip on her staff loosens, and it hits the ground with a clang, all as the poor, unhinged Mage begins scratching her throat hard enough to leave deep marks. “STOP!” Dark energy pulses around her body, threatening to burst out if things escalate any further.

“ZUTIRIA!” I kneel and cradle my lover to try and calm the Mage’s nerves. Putting my brain into overdrive, I start thinking of some way to get us both out of this situation. My first thought is, where is in the Eternal Hells is Nikita? She said she could sense conflict if something happened, but... ah. That’s right. She said she would go get Pinemen for us, so she would’ve had to have left town through the east gate.

Shit.

I don’t have any way to attack the rogue, not while Zutiria is in such a critical state. Not that an untrained civilian like myself would likely do much damage in the first place. No, I only see one option to come out on top here, and it’s a hell of a stretch... but... there’s no other shot but to go for it. It depends on Zutiria picking up on my cues, her feeling stable enough to act on them, and me distracting this odd, show-offy intruder.

“Damn! I knew that’d get a reaction, but someone sure is touchy.” Fleetfoot cackles. My rage flares at how she’s treating Zutiria, but I fight back against myself, knowing full well if I lose composure, then our one and only chance will be wasted.

“How do you know so much about her?” I ask, “Don’t tell me you’re the leader of those shadowy rogues who’ve been following us around?”

“Oh, see? You ARE a smarty! That’s me. I used my p...” Fleetfoot grunts and shake their head, disappointed they were about to slip up. “I mean, I sent my men to do some digging, and I found out pretty much all there is to know about you and all those chicks of yours... well, most of them, anyway. Couldn’t find much about that Doctor, but hey, nobody’s perfect.” Says the alleged God.

“All of us? Even Nikita?” I start tapping Zutiria’s back hard with my thumb as soon as I say the Grekkan’s name. Zutiria trembles in response, but the intruder does nothing since they can’t see my attempt to clue the Mage in.

“Who? ...Oh, that mercenary-” I keep thumbing at Zutiria’s back as soon as the word ‘mercenary’ is said. “Yeah, I got some intel on her. No big deal, my team is pretty great like that.” Seems like I was correct. It’s not going to be too hard to stall out this conversation as long as I need to.

“So, you’re with the Duke of Dewhurst, then... Damn, Nikita-” tap tap tap, “is supposed to protect us from the likes of you! If ONLY she were here right NOW!”

Zutiria takes a deep breath and carefully looks over her shoulder to send me a secret message that the Halfling won’t be able to read. ‘I... I contacted Nikita with telepathy, Sir. K-Keep them talking...’ The Mage bites her lip and closes her eyes, the stress and trauma continuing to bubble within her.

Perfect. Now to stall for time...

The Halfling laughs and brandishes their butterknife once again, aiming all of its floating copies at us. “Well, too bad because she can’t save you. I was waiting for her to step out of town like this!”

“Curses,” I utter a generic response while acting as upset as I can. “You’ve really outplayed me here...”

“I know, right?” They laugh like an arrogant buffoon. “By the way, as far as the ‘Duke’ goes... yeah, you could say I run with him. Honestly, I got a real cushy job these days, and I don’t wanna lose it. Thought it’d be best to take action into my own hands and take you out before becoming a threat. Sucks to be you, but hey, just be lucky I’m the one giving you a mercy kill and not the butcher. He’s working on Abner right about now...”

The butcher? I knew it... I was wondering how this whole conflict started, but now I think I have the answer. “Bludman is killing the mayor?”

“Duke’s orders. He didn’t like that you were getting local quests again,” The Halfling shrugs.

I throw out whatever distracting bullshit I can come up with, resulting in me saying, “Where are your men? Why see to my demise personally, have I done something to offend you?”

“They’re... busy,” The rogue looks away. “And nah, this is just business. Nothing personal, you seem ok enough to me, Mate. I’m just trying to make a living.”

“Damn, I had no idea that this could’ve happened... I drastically underestimated the Duke’s forces. I had no idea that someone as skilled as you were in his employ, Fleetfoot.” Despite my shaky acting, this seems to please the rogue. They puff out their chest with pride.

“Yeah, well...” The rogue continues gloating. “You were just unlucky enough to piss off the wrong guy, so now I gotta do something about it.” After finally pulling themselves out of their self-aggrandizing, the magical knives shimmer in the air as they ready themselves to launch at the rogue’s command. “Any last words? Go on, I’ll wait.”

It takes everything I have in me not to shake my head in disbelief that this fool is actually giving me time to stall entirely of their own volition.

“I have a few things I’d like to say if you really don’t mind listening...” I bite my lip and awkwardly hug Zutiria, who, despite being in a powerless and traumatized state, still has the mental acuity to look on at my terrible acting with disdain.

“Eh, why not? I got time.” They sit down at the table they’re standing at and make the floating knives disappear. Mentally, I am stunned at this level of ineptitude.

I take in a deep breath and prepare myself for a lengthy spiel, “It all started when I was a boy. I was raised by my Grandpa, you see- which you no doubt know about if you’ve really done your research-”

“Yup, where are you going with this?” Their voice grows suspicious, causing my heart rate to skyrocket. “I already know all about your tragic backstory, Mate. I don’t need a refresher.”

“Just trust me. These are my last words, remember? I want them to mean something, so I need you to allow me to speak, even if it sounds like I’m rambling. Please.”

Fleetfoot considers this for a moment before eventually saying, “Fair enough.” Thank the Gods, I was worried that they might’ve actually caught on to my scheme.

For the next couple of minutes, I give a lengthy diatribe about my childhood woes and my struggles through life. I chatter about how upset I am that my death will have amounted to nothing and how I wanted to reach so much higher. While it’s not like I can see their face, I’m almost positive that the enemy starts feeling sympathetic for me at a few points during my speech- despite how much I’m overselling it.

“And then?” Fleetfoot asks as I reach the end of my improvisational rope, their magically-filtered voice laden with obvious interest.

“And then you came along to end it all,” I sigh for as long as I can stretch one out. “Woe is me.”

“Huh. Well, that kinda sucks... it’d be a pretty shitty end to your story if I killed you right now,” After a few moments of contemplation, they say, “I’m still gonna do it, though.”

“I’m aware,” Nodding my head, I move on and ask, “What about you? What led you to this moment in time where you’re seconds away from killing my lovely Mage and me?”

“Putting me aside for a sec, I gotta say that she ain’t that lovely, Mate...” Fleetfoot laughs. “Haven’t you ever asked her the real reason she was up in that tower for all those years?”

Zutiria responds to this by crying and coughing again. She whimpers out loud, “S... Shut... up...”

I hug her tighter to calm her as best I can. “Zutiria, don’t try and speak-”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Fleetfoot continues their overconfident laughter. “Kill me like you killed your fam-”

The Guild gains another hole in it as the nearest wall to Fleetfoot bursts open wide due to an enormous, unexpected impact. As splinters fly about, a pineman sails through the air from out of the dust. After using the still-living monster as a battering ram, Nikita throws the sentient tree straight into Fleetfoot’s face.

It hits the rogue with such explosive force that the poor thing explodes into a mess of wood, nettle, splinters, and pinecones. The halfling barrels across the entrance hall, creating yet another fucking hole upon crashing into the opposite wall. “Hey, half-pint! Why don’t you make like a tree and-”

“Nikita. Not the time.”

Nikita pauses her abysmal pun once she gets a better look at Zutiria. “Oh, shit... give me a sec, Chief,” The Grekkan steps through the hole in the wall that her pineman toss created and cracks her knuckles. “You better get out of here while you still can.” She warns, breaking out her most intimidating voice.

“W-Why? Agh- fuck...!” Fleetfoot pulls themself out of the crater they made and holds onto their mask. While not broken, it has a noticeable crack in it. This damage doesn’t mean all that much since I still can’t look directly at the mask. “I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna kill me...”

“Sounds like you’ve done your homework!” Nikita gives the enemy an oddly friendly smile, which makes me think she must just always be this casual. “True, I’m not going to kill you. I... don’t like fighting anymore... but hey, breaking every bone in your body wouldn’t kill you if I did it the right way.”

“You’re... you’re bluffing!” Fleetfoot angrily clasps their mask in their hand while Nikita continues to smile. The Grekkan takes a single step forward, which proves all it takes to get the Halfling to shout, “SHIT SHIT SHIT!” and put back on their ring of invisibility out of fear.

“You haven’t seen the last of me!” Fleetfoot warns, their voice sounding farther and farther away by the word. I suppose Halflings are fast, but... this is an impressive display of cowardice, to be sure.

After confirming that the enemy is no longer present, Nikita rushes to my side to check up on both of us. “Chief, Zuzu, you guys alright?”

“I’m fine, she’s-”

‘I... I want to be alone...’ Zutiria pulls off her beret and hides her face in it. The dark aura that was surrounding the Mage until now finally dissolves. Her anxiety only worsens as she says, ‘I’m sorry, Sir. I never wanted you to find out. I lied to you... I lied to Sammy... I... I can’t-’

“Gods...” Nikita stands, clearly shaken at seeing her friend in such a sorry state. “Stay here. I’m going to go get Opal. Don’t worry, I’ll be close enough to sense them if they return, and it won’t take me nearly as long to get back if I have to.”

“Thank you. I’ll take care of Zutiria...” Something tells me we don’t have to worry about Fleetfoot coming back, but it’s only a hunch.

Nikita turns to leave but pauses and eventually looks over her shoulder. “...Chief. You aren’t going to take this lying down, are you?”

“No, Nikita. No, I’m not.” Whether Fleetfoot themselves is a legitimate threat remains vague due to how horribly they bungled their attempt on my life. Still, the fact remains that there was an attempt on my life, period. “The Duke of Dewhurst is going to pay for this.”

The Grekkan stares me down in silent appraisal. After sufficiently judging my worth, she smirks, “Hmph. That’s what I like to see.” She pumps her bicep at me in approval before running away to fetch Opalina.

Now alone with a sorceress who refuses to leave the comfort of her beret, I sigh and hold Zutiria tight. The Mage doesn’t hug me back, but that’s ok. As I nuzzle against her and do everything I can to comfort her, I find myself silently asking... could this day get any fucking worse?